


Into the Woods

by ORiley42



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, Families of Choice, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Mild Angst, background ed/oswald, background ivy/bridgit, little red riding hood overtones, we've got it all here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 10:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12579804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ORiley42/pseuds/ORiley42
Summary: Tabitha has been sent to hunt down the Wolf of the Dark Forest, but her journey takes a twist when she angers a witch and is cursed with memory loss.There follows hijinks, cahoots, the occasional murder, and, of course, true love.





	Into the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deletingpoint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deletingpoint/gifts).



> This eerie, oddball, lady-lovin’ fairy tale is for deletingpoint, for the Gotham Buddy Exchange! I hope you like it, friend, it’s been a great time writing it. <3 
> 
> [You can see the art for this story all in one place here: http://oriley42.tumblr.com/post/166989750348/lee-tabitha-barbara-art-for-into-the]

 

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of a large crossbow, must be in want of a wolf to kill with it. Or so Lee supposed, anyway, when a fiercely beautiful and seriously well-armed woman marched up the path to her door one autumn morning.

She set aside her spellbook and gave her cauldron one last stir before standing to answer to the door. She was surprised to see another hunter so soon, after all, that Gordon fellow had been here just a week before, and his older, much more grizzled partner the week before that. Both had left with broken weapons and a defeated set to their shoulders, not to mention some nasty wounds.

But that was definitely the aura of a hunter that Lee sensed lifting her fist to knock on the door. Lee opened it with a smile just before the woman’s knuckles landed.

“Hello!” Lee greeted her, “Would you like to come in a moment and rest before carrying on with your, I’m afraid, likely unsuccessful wolf-hunt?”  

The hunter blinked, and then accepted the offer with a suspicious nod, stepping over the threshold.

“I guess you’re the so-called witch of the Dark Forest, then?” the stranger asked bluntly, crossing her arms as she eyed Lee warily.

“Well, I guess I am. Though, really, the Dark Forest doesn’t technically start until you pass by that little retaining wall over there,” Lee pointed out the window at some red bricks holding up the dirt around her vegetable patch. “And, you can call me Lee. Whose company do I have the pleasure of sharing today?” Lee shot her another smile, to no effect.

“Tabitha,” she answered shortly.

“Well, Tabitha, what can I do for you?”

“Heard you were the one to talk to about finding the wolf.”

“Hmmm....” Lee reached up to straighten the tip of her hat, which had a habit of flopping over no matter how many times she charmed it. “I suppose I might know something about a wolf...won’t you have a cup of tea so we can chat?”

“I don’t drink tea.”

Lee paused. What kind of person didn’t drink tea? Her forehead pinched as she poured a cup for herself.

“So...” Lee pressed on, “You’re yet another hunter sent from the outside to kill the mythical beast...”

“Not so mythical,” Tabitha cut in sharply, “it’s killed at least a dozen people who wandered too close to the Forest.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean mythical in reference to its being fictional, but rather its being of mythical _power_ – it’s no ordinary wolf.” Lee wasn’t usually prone to such dramatic turns of phrase, but in this case, it was no exaggeration. The wolf had been growing increasingly aggressive of late, stalking prey on the very edges of its territory. And although Lee’s job as the gateway witch to the Forest was to keep the monsters in, not the people out, she felt it was her duty to at least warn off those outsiders foolish enough to venture past her domain.

“No ordinary wolf...” Tabitha drawled mockingly, “I’m shaking.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem too concerned about the strength of your quarry...surely you’ve heard the stories?”

“Yeah, I have. And frankly, I don’t think it’s the wolf that’s the problem, it’s the people the Kingdom’s sent after it.”

“That’s...an interesting way to look at it,” Lee replied diplomatically. “But do you really think that you can do what so many other hunters failed to?”

Tabitha scoffed. “Please, that last knight Gordon came back crying like a baby, with a chunk missing from his ass. I think I can do better than that.”

“You seem quite determined.”

“My brother sent me to do a job, and I’m going to do it.”

“Your brother?”

“He’s nobody,” Tabitha said dryly, “Just Theo Galavan, one of the most powerful men in the Kingdom.”

“I see...so he says ‘jump,’ you say ‘how high’?”

Tabitha’s fist clenched and there was a soft _snnnk_ of metal that Lee suspected came from a sharp blade being unsheathed. “I don’t... _jump_...for anyone.” Tabitha stuck out her chin, eyes flashing dangerously. “I just do what _needs_ doing.”

“Of course,” Lee assured her, but Tabitha wasn’t pacified.

“Listen, _witch_ ,” she snarled, the temper that had been visibly building finally bubbling suddenly, violently over, “it’s bad enough I have to talk to a creature like you at all. If you won’t tell me what I need to know, that I don’t know what purpose you serve – and I don’t see you living for much longer.”

“How...how _dare_ you,” Lee sputtered, shocked by the outpouring of rage, “What have I ever done to merit such threats?”

“You didn’t have to _do_ anything. It’s what you _are_. All you magical things are the same. You might be prettier than the wolf, but I’m sure you’d kill us regular humans just as easy.”

“Certainly I could,” Lee bit out, “but I wouldn’t. I’m not that kind of witch. And clearly, what you’ve been taught about magic is deeply flawed, you don’t know –”

“Oh, I _know_ ,” Tabitha cut her off, taking a menacing step forward, “I’m from the Court of the Kingdom. Do you know what that means?” She didn’t give Lee a chance to answer, pressing on, “It means I’m privy to centuries worth of knowledge; I’ve seen every last ounce of the destruction your kind have reigned upon us.”

“That was a long time ago,” Lee tried to reason with her, “there are so few magical beings left, we hardly pose a threat to –”

“Magic is always a threat!” Tabitha snarled, “And I will _never_ let it back into my Kingdom again, even if I have to kill every last one of you unnatural freaks myself.”

For one beat of quiet, Lee locked gazes with Tabitha, seeing the well-tended fires of hatred burning behind her eyes.

“Alright.” Lee smiled a cold smile that sent a shiver down Tabitha’s back. “The thing is, it would be simple for me to just kill you, like you fear I could. But that’s not my style, and it’s a bit dull, besides. It would be a lot more fun to do... _this_!” Lee snapped her fingers in front of Tabitha’s nose, freezing her in place just as she reached to pull her crossbow from her back.

Lee took a deep, settling breath, and then went to retrieve an ancient book of spells she’d inherited from a past mentor. She flipped through the pages with one hand, levitating the book in front of her as she tried to decide which one would be most prudent for the current situation.

“Hmm, hmm, no, we don’t need to worry about courage, nor is brains our primary problem, though I don’t think it would hurt... oh, yes!” Lee tapped a hand-written note scrawled in the margins by the book’s previous owner, reading “this should be called the Give Someone a Good Goddamn Lesson curse – _very_ effective.” Lee giggled a little under her breath; that Fish had been a real pistol. A little too quick to curse for Lee’s taste, but there was no one faster with a wand than her.

“Perfect,” Lee declared. “Now, let’s see, what do we need... a gold coin, a rabbit skull, and something belonging to the subject...”

Lee gathered the first two items quickly before going gingerly over to the still-frozen Tabitha.

“I’m just going to borrow this...” she said under her breath as she gently tugged free the small blade that Tabitha had tucked up her right sleeve.

“Okay...” Lee rubbed her palms together until the smell of lightning and rose water began to fill the air, strands of electricity stringing across her fingers, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

With a flourish and a flick of her wrist, the ingredients stirred themselves into her cauldron, morphing into a molten gold as she chanted the requisite Latin, before freestyling into a bit of unmetered verse (she preferred her spells to have that personal touch):

 A woman who hunts what she does not know,

For another’s purpose, not her own,

Until you know your truest self,

Yourself you will not know...

Lee finished the spell by swirling a thumb through the mixture bubbling in the cauldron and then pressing the digit firmly to Tabitha’s forehead. The smudge shimmered gold, then white, then dissolved into its subject’s skin, awakening Tabitha with a start.

“Now, then...” Lee whispered as Tabitha blinked in confusion, “what do you remember?”

Tabitha’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

“Let me guess,” Lee jumped in eagerly, “you remember... _nothing_?”

Tabitha’s eyes flitted around the room as if her memories might be hidden behind one of the pots or pans, but they most definitely were not.

“Excellent!” Lee bounced up and down with excitement. “Oh, I get why some witches are so fond of curses, they really are very fun!”

“Um...?” Tabitha said, raising a questioning hand, but Lee shushed her with a finger to her lips. Lee took Tabitha by the shoulders and led her out the door and down the steps.

“What...?” Tabitha started again, but Lee gave her a soft push down the path, gesturing towards the Dark Woods.

“Off you go!” Lee grinned, waving goodbye, “Talk to some strangers, eat weird mushrooms you find in the woods, and definitely _don’t_ run for your life if you see a giant wolf!”

Tabitha gave a half-hearted wave back, head spinning as her internal voice wondered very quietly whether the strange pretty lady was giving her good advice or not. It seemed reasonable, but she didn’t have much to compare it to – just about everything other than the woods around her was a complete blank. “I guess I’ll...do that...then...” she muttered to herself, putting one boot in front of the other along the thin dirt path.

“You think you know how dangerous magic can be?” Lee murmured as she watched Tabitha wander vaguely off into the Dark Forest, “Oh, honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

~~~~~

Tabitha knew nothing. Well, that wasn’t true – she knew how to walk, she knew how to talk, she seemed pretty solid on the breathing front and other autonomic functions. But she wasn’t actually aware that her name was Tabitha, and she had no clue where she was, or what she was doing there.

So, she just kept doing the last and only thing she could really recall doing, which was walking the path the dark-haired woman had pointed her to.

Paths usually led somewhere, right? she tried to reason to herself. Maybe this path led somewhere good.

As the woods grew preternaturally dark around her, however, she began to think that maybe this path led somewhere that was the opposite of good, somewhere...somewhere _bad_.

A low, spine-tingling growl rustling through fallen leaves seemed to confirm this tentative hypothesis.

“Wolf,” she murmured under her breath, something deep and instinctual in her mind tossing up a word to match the sound of the predator. Her eyes widened. “ _Wolf_!” she shouted with sudden excitement as she remembered what the witch had said.

As if summoned by its name, or perhaps just intrigued as to why its prey was yelling with delight rather than terror, the wolf stepped out of the tree line and regally onto the path, yellow eyes burrowing into Tabitha’s as she met its gaze.

It was huge, at least as tall as she was, with broad shoulders and a blood-stained muzzle, sharp teeth gleaming white in the weak moonlight.

Although she had no frame of reference when it came to wolves, Tabitha got the distinct impression that this wolf was special. Different. The sight of it stirred up all sorts of feelings that rattled around inside her like loose marbles, unable to attach to any memory or purpose.

Since she couldn’t seem to put her jumbled thoughts in order, Tabitha simply did the first coherent thing she could think to do.

“Hello!” she greeted the wolf, lifting her hand and waving tentatively. “Nice night,” she added as an afterthought.

The wolf seemed a bit confused, if wolves were capable of feeling confusion. Its front paws kneaded the dirt path, and it cocked its head.

“I, uh, I’m not really good at small talk,” Tabitha confessed as the wolf stared at her in silence. She continued to ramble, “I’ve never been good at it, or at least, I don’t _think_ I have been. I don’t know. I don’t _seem_ very good at it...oh, hey, wait!”

The wolf, appearing somewhat bored with the conversation, had just turned around and bounded back into the depths of the woods.

“No, please, come back!” Tabitha called after the animal, trying to give chase. She only made it a few steps off the path before a vine came out of nowhere and grabbed her ankle, yanking her to the ground. Tabitha tried to pull herself up, but more greenery had already wound itself around her waist, spreading up her back and down her legs, binding her to the earth. Leaves and bugs and fragments of wood clouded her vision, clogging her mouth and nose and scratching at her skin.

She was gasping for air, nearly beneath the topsoil when there was a tremendous wrenching noise and she found herself suddenly free and being carried back onto the moonlit path. Black spots danced before her eyes, and when they’d cleared, she was met with a most unlikely sight: a beautiful woman with golden curls and bright blue eyes smiling down at her.

Is this real? Tabitha wondered as she stared at her savior. Maybe getting rescued by gorgeous strangers was par for the course in these woods, it’s not like she’d know.

“You should stay on the path,” the blonde said, her voice honey-sweet, “Bad things tend to happen to those who stray from it.”

“Okay,” Tabitha agreed readily, pretty much willing to do anything the woman said.

“Do you have a name, sweetheart?” the stranger purred, red cloak swishing around her as she reached down and pulled Tabitha to her feet.  

“Yes,” Tabitha answered on instinct, “But...I don’t know what it is.”

“Well, that just won’t do,” the woman clucked disapprovingly, “We’ll have to find something to call you by. You can call me Barbara.”

“Barbara...” Tabitha tested the name out. “Thank you for saving me from the, uh...the mean plants.”

Barbara giggled, “Yes, they are rather rude, aren’t they? But they don’t get fed very often, what with the wolf that lives around these parts eating all their prey. The wolf that I saw, unless I was hallucinating, you try and _chase_ _after_ instead of _run away from_.”

“I’m not scared of the wolf,” Tabitha replied stubbornly, though she wasn’t sure why she felt so stubborn on the point. “But I think it might be...important.” Tabitha shook her head in frustration at how inadequate her words were. She caught sight of her own fists clenched tight at her sides and wondered if language was not her usual weapon.

“I see...you’re not scared of the big, bad wolf because you’re a bigger, badder hunter?” Barbara surmised, gesturing to something over Tabitha’s shoulder.

“Huh?” Tabitha turned and saw a dark shape out of the corner of her eye. She spun around for a moment like a dog chasing its tail before she realized that whatever the thing was, she was carrying it on her back. After a moment of struggle, she managed to pull a large object made of metal and wood off her shoulders.

“Didn’t know I had this...” she muttered, mostly to herself, as she inspected her cargo.

“You didn’t _know_ you were carrying around a twenty pound crossbow?” Barbara asked, disbelieving. “That’s the story you’re going with?”

“ _Hey_ ,” Tabitha felt anger rush up in her chest, and the heat felt good and right, “Listen, I’m glad you saved me and all, but I have been having a _really_ weird day and I am tired and confused and I think I feel like killing someone, and I haven’t seen a single human being since that lady at the cabin, so you should _watch it_.”

“Lady at the cabin?” Barbara echoed, unfazed by the oblique threat on her life. “What lady?”

“I don’t _know,_ ” Tabitha growled, “She was a...a...lady. In a cabin.”

“Dark hair, ethereal beauty, smelled like pinecone and oranges?” Barbara offered.

“Yes!”

“Hmm,” Barbara tapped her chin with one delicate finger, “Sounds like you had a run in with the gateway witch... She’s the only one around here with the kind of mojo to do _this_ ,” Barbara gestured vaguely to Tabitha’s head. “Though I’m not sure _why_ she would do it...” Barbara giggled, before taking a step forward and looping her arm through Tabitha’s, “I guess she’s a little more fun than I thought she was!”

With that, Barbara began to tug Tabitha along the path.

“Wait, so who’s this gateway witch, exactly?” Tabitha asked as she scrambled to hold onto her crossbow and keep up with Barbara’s swift pace.

“No one knows much about her, she’s not very social. And she considers herself one of the _good guys_ ,” Barbara rolled her eyes to make it clear what she thought of that notion. “So, basically, she’s boring. Usually, anyway – you apparently pissed her off enough to change that!”

“Hurray for me,” Tabitha said, deadpan. “So I ticked off the local do-gooder and she did _what_ to me?”

“Seems like a memory curse,” Barbara surmised, “Though spells aren’t really my area.”

“I’ve been...cursed?” Tabitha said, feeling a pit of dread form in her stomach.

“Well, technically, yeah. But since Lee’s like a loyal subscriber to White Witch Monthly she probably wouldn’t do any _really_ dark magic...that’s good news! It means this curse will probably have a good ending, not a screaming-as-your-bones-spontaneously-liquefy kind.”

“Gee, great,” Tabitha sighed, before letting silence settle between them, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the calls of night birds

They crunched along the path for a while, clouds passing over the moon and bringing the already-dark woods into near total blackness. Barbara didn’t seem troubled by it, however, leading Tabitha confidently down the almost invisible path.

Tabitha snuck a glance to her left, trying to size up her mysterious companion. From what she could see, Barbara seemed cheerful and unconcerned by the late hour and apparently hazardous woods, not to mention the amnesia-struck, crossbow-armed woman she’d found chasing after a wolf.

As if she’d intercepted Tabitha’s thoughts, Barbara piped up, “So, since you were unaware of the armaments strapped to your back, what exactly were you trying to do about that wolf when I found you? Befriend it?”

“Maybe,” Tabitha tossed back defensively.

“Well, normally I wouldn’t recommend trying to cozy up with creatures that could eviscerate you in seconds, but in this case, I suppose it was alright. It led you to me, after all.” Barbara patted Tabitha’s arm and shot her a brilliant smile, her teeth seeming unnaturally bright in the pale light of the stars.

Before long the path began to widen and a dark two-story structure came into view.

“Is that –” Tabitha started to ask, but Barbara cut her off, “No, that’s not mine. And we’d best keep our distance – some of that particular abode’s occupants tend to be quite peckish around this time of night, and you smell an absolute dream.”

Barbara picked up their pace, almost dragging Tabitha along until they rounded a stand of birch trees and the frame of a much smaller house swam into being out of the darkness.

“ _This_ is my home,” Barbara announced with a proud wave of her arm.

As the clouds above parted to reveal the moon, Tabitha could glimpse the makings of a lovely little cottage. As a wave of exhaustion swept through her, however, the only thing she cared about was that the house had a _bed_.

Barbara led her to the door, flinging it open with gusto and skipping inside.

“Ta da!” she gestured around the room as a few lamps slowly flickered to life, revealing a small but handsome space. A roaring fire burned behind a wrought iron grate, illuminating the living room’s richly upholstered furniture and casting shadows on the kitchen’s smooth marble counters. A large four-poster bed hung with red curtains embroidered in gold dominated the far side of the little cabin, nearly scraping the ceiling at its height.

“It’s a little crowded,” Barbara admitted, shuffling an ottoman aside so that Tabitha didn’t trip as she entered. “I have rather decadent tastes, but I know I’d get lonely if I was puttering around a big old mansion all by myself. Ergo, I went for small and sweet.”

“So...” Barbara turned expectantly to Tabitha, “What do you think?”

Tabitha searched for words, finally coming up with, “It’s...nice.”

Barbara deflated a bit. “Nice?”

“ _Very_ nice?” Tabitha tried. “Listen, I’m just...so tired. I think I need to sit down...”

“Aw, poor thing...” Barbara cooed, shifting into the attitude of a gracious host. “I guess getting cursed can really take it out of a girl. Why don’t you just take off all this heavy gear and rest...” Barbara settled Tabitha into a big fluffy armchair, where she sank gratefully into the overstuffed cushions as Barbara relieved her of her crossbow and knapsack.

“Oh, look!” Barbara exclaimed a second later, waving the crossbow excitedly, “ _Tabitha_!”

Tabitha jumped out of the chair, the name setting off a bolt of recognition. “What did you say?”

“Tabitha! That must be your name, Tabitha...Galavan,” Barbara sounded it out, squinting at something on the base of the crossbow’s handle. Tabitha moved to join her, looking down at the weapon and spotting a small metal engraving. “Property of Tabitha Galavan,” it read.

“Tabitha...” Reading her own name aloud was eerie, unfamiliar as it was to her and yet it slipped into place in her mind like the first piece of a jumbled puzzle.

“Tabitha,” Barbara echoed, sounding like she enjoyed the taste of the name, “Tabitha, Tabitha...Tabby?”

Tabitha glared at her.

“Ok, we’ll shelve the nickname discussion for when you’ve got some sleep,” Barbara decided.

Just the thought of sleep almost enough for Tabitha to nod off where she stood; when Barbara noticed her new friend swaying slightly in place she wisely guided her to sit on the foot of the bed, pulling back the curtains.

“There’s only one bed, and the couch isn’t really fit for long-term human habitation, so I hope you don’t mind _sharing_...” Barbara’s eyes danced merrily in the firelight, but Tabitha was far too gone to notice.

“S’fine,” she mumbled, as Barbara reached down to undo the laces on her boots, pulling them off one by one and setting them aside.

“I guess it would be silly of me to ask if you snore?” Barbara teased.

“Mmph,” was Tabitha’s unintelligible reply as she let gravity pull her down, flopping back on the comforter.

“Yes, I thought so,” Barbara said, more to herself than to Tabitha, who it appeared was now sound asleep.

Barbara clambered onto the bed next to Tabitha, curling her limbs into her chest as she watched her companion’s breathing turn slow and steady. The quiet sound was hypnotic, and Barbara soon felt her eyes grow heavy.

Before sleep could take her, Barbara skated her hand across the bed until it bumped up against Tabitha’s. Barbara gently twined their fingers together, and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

~~~~~

The next morning dawned, bright and crisp. Tabitha opened her eyes, and was greeted with an unfamiliar ceiling. Turning her head, she could see that _all_ of her surroundings were unfamiliar.

Before panic could take over, a thankfully familiar head of blonde hair popped around the edge of the partly open bed curtain.

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Barbara threw open the curtains all the way, sunlight flooding in and making Tabitha squint and flinch. “I hope you like bacon,” Barbara continued as she flounced back to the kitchen, a red silk robe fastened loosely around her waist, “it’s one of the only things I can really cook.”

“I hope I like bacon, too...” Tabitha muttered as she disentangled herself from the bedsheets, mood turning sour as she remembered all the things she _didn’t_ remember.

“I’ve also got some bread leftover from a dinner with the girls the other evening,” Barbara said as Tabitha stomped moodily over to join her, “But I’m not sure your constitution’s quite ready for Bridgit’s baking.”

Tabitha nodded in acknowledgement of Barbara’s words, though she didn’t really have any idea what the other woman was talking about, before digging into the plate of food laid out for her.

“You’ll have to meet the whole gang soon,” Barbara continued, perching on the edge of the table, “I’m sure the ones with sharper noses have already picked up your scent. I’m actually a little surprised no one’s tried to peer in the windows and catch a glimpse of you. After all, it’s not like we get a lot of company out here, certainly not the non-edible kind, if you catch my meaning...” Barbara let her sentence meander to a halt, tucking a hand under her chin to inspect Tabitha a little more closely.  “You’re not much of a talker, are you sweetie?” she concluded after a moment.

Tabitha couldn’t be sure, of course, but that sounded about right, so she grunted in the affirmative.

“That’s fine,” Barbara decided, “I think I’ve got enough to say for the both of us.”

Tabitha thought that also seemed true, as Barbara kept right on talking.

“Now, everyone will want a piece of you – some, very literally so – but I think the first people you should meet are our closest neighbors, Bridgit and Ivy. Or, if they’re in a pretentious mood, you can call them the Fire Spirit and the Protector of the Green.” Barbara waggled her fingers in the air to illustrate the impressive-sounding titles. “They’ll also respond to ‘crazy fire lady’ or ‘crazy plant lady,’ but not happily. I’d recommend saving those for a rainy day.

“And then further down the road we’ve got Edward and Oswald – they own that big ridiculous black two-story mansion thing we passed last night. Ozzie dearest is the one with a taste for human blood, though you don’t want to turn your back on Eddie either. He’s a sorcerer of some sort. He used to live in the Kingdom, but got kicked out when the law discovered he’d been doing some sort of magical experiments on living beings. He ended up here, where no one really cares if he’s turning cats into cushions, or widows into washbins. But I’d stay away from his and Ozzie’s house if you see red smoke coming out the chimney. Or blue smoke. Really, I’d just be careful generally, Eddie’s often on the prowl for new lab subjects. But those two can be good fun, especially once you get some wine in them! Killer board game nights at their place every full moon.

“The last important person around here, and the last newbie to take up residence in our little paradise, is the Fox. He’s kind of the odd one out around these parts, no violent impulses to speak of – I think we kind of keep him around for the novelty of it? He’s wise, slightly grumpy, definitely cute, but not really interested in anything that’s not written on old crumbly paper. Sometimes we don’t see him outside for months at a time. Pretty much the only regular social interaction he gets up to is a weekly chess game with Edward – watch out on those days, because poor Eddie loses almost every time, and tends to throw out a few random hexes on his way home.

“Whew!” Barbara blew out a breath and tilted her head towards Tabitha. “Did you get all that?”

“Yep,” Tabitha replied.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. “Are you lying?”

“For sure.”

That cracked Barbara up. “Oh, that’s fine,” she laughed, fingers scooting across the table to rest against Tabitha’s, “I think I can handle keeping our social calendar in order.”

“‘Our’”? Tabitha repeated, questioning.

“Well, yes, _our_ calendar, silly. I mean, pretty much every one else around here’s paired off, even Oswald, for heaven’s sake, and I thought for sure he’d die alone –” she paused briefly, “– don’t tell him I said that, though, or he might do something unpleasant like peck out my eyes.”

“I literally have never met him, so sure,” Tabitha agreed.

“Aw, you _are_ a dear,” Barbara cooed. “Anyway, since everyone else has got a someone to call their own, I’d say it’s about my turn. And with your whole, ah, _clean slate_ thing going on, I think this will work out wonderfully.”

Tabitha pulled her hand away, wondering for the first time where that crossbow she’d had the night before had gone to. “You know that I’m grateful for what you’ve done, Barbara, but I don’t _belong_ to anyone.”

Barbara was the inverse of Tabitha’s tense posture, somehow managing to make slouching in a dining room chair look elegant as she purred her response, “But Tabitha, dear, I thought you didn’t even know who you are, how could you know that you don’t belong to anyone?”

“I know,” Tabitha replied coolly.

Barbara’s grin widened. “So, you’re confident...I _like_ it.”

Tabitha straightened proudly, but her composure was shattered a moment later when a flash of white came darting in the open window, nearly taking off the end of her nose before making a circuit of the room and finally depositing itself in front of Barbara.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Barbara muttered, taking the little white shape in hand and...unfolding it? Tabitha watched as what had at first seemed to be a small bird turned into an ordinary piece of white paper with some charcoal writing on it. “I’m always telling Bridgit that she doesn’t need to be so violent with her message charms, she’s going to take someone’s eye out...”

Tabitha watched, frozen in her seat as Barbara procured a pencil and scribbled a note on the other side of the missive. With deft fingers she took the square of white paper and folded it into a little origami crane. Lifting it delicately, she blew once across its wings. To Tabitha’s renewed shock, the paper bird took off, fluttering out of Barbara’s hands and through the open window.

Barbara looked up and finally noticed Tabitha’s distress. “What’s wrong?”

“I...that...” Tabitha’s heartrate was rabbiting, something engrained deep in her brain shouting “ _danger! danger_!” “Magic...” she finally managed to say, “that was....magic?”

“Well... _duh_ ,” Barbara giggled.

“But magic is...bad,” Tabitha said, brow creased as she tried to pry free a concrete opinion on the matter from the black abyss of her past, “You’d been saying so many strange things but I didn’t think that...”

Barbara gawked at her briefly before regaining her composure. “Tabitha. Tabby. _Honey_. My neighbors are spirits and sprites, we’ve got a vampire living down the road with his sorcerer boyfriend, not to mention a supernatural wolf prowling the woods, so...pretty much everything and everyone around you is up to their neck in magic.”

“But you’re not...you –”

“Oh, I most definitely am.”

“But you’re not...bad.”

“Really?” For the first time, Barbara’s veneer of sweetness cracked, revealing something cold and immovable underneath. “What do you know about what I _am_?”

“About as much as I know about what _I_ am,” Tabitha retorted.

Barbara snorted, taken aback. “That’s fair.”

“Yeah, it is,” Tabitha snapped, picking up steam, “Because I don’t know _anything_ , which is _awful_ , but I still have all these feelings and I just can’t...can’t...connect them to anything that’s....that’s....” Tabitha struggled to express herself, finally bringing her fist crashing down on to the table in frustration, meriting an alarming snapping noise from the innocent furniture.

“Alright,” Barbara said, turning soothing at the drop of a hat, “It’s okay. I get it, I mean, I don’t _get_ it but...you’re dealing with a lot here. What can I do to help?”

If the surprise Tabitha felt was anything to go by, no one had ever asked her that before.  “I just...I need you to be honest with me,” she said. “If I ask you something important I need to trust that you won’t take advantage of me, or twist the answer.”

Barbara met Tabitha’s gaze steadily, looking more serious than Tabitha thought someone as enchantingly mercurial as her could.

“I’ll admit that not taking advantage is...not my most natural instinct. But for you, Tabitha, I will try.”

“Why?” Tabitha asked, feeling that it was important to understand.

“Gee, you aren’t really waiting long to try out this whole ‘answer questions honestly’ thing are you...”

At Tabitha’s discouraged frown, Barbara’s frivolity crumpled again, something vulnerable peeking out from the depths of her blue eyes. Her voice was small as she finally asked, “Can I answer your question with one of my own?”

Tabitha nodded, solemn.

“Do you want to stay here with me? Try to be my friend? Have brunch with temperamental forest spirits and gossip with an overly dramatic vampire, all while avoiding the many ways this Forest will probably try and kill you?”

Tabitha’s lips quirked up in a grin. “Well, who doesn’t like to fear for their life on a daily basis... I guess I’m sold.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh, _yay_ ,” Barbara threw herself across the table in an attempt to hug Tabitha, her arms barely reaching around Tabitha’s shoulders as she knocked the butter dish clean off the table with her enthusiasm. Tabitha laughed, and thought it might be the best hug she’d ever received.

“So, about the question I asked you, why you’re doing this for me...” she began tentatively, once Barbara had released her and plopped back in her own chair

“You answered it,” Barbara shrugged. “You want to stay here and I – I _really_ would like to be your friend. Is that enough for you?”

Tabitha nodded. “I think it is.”

“Well, then, now that that’s settled....” Barbara laced her fingers together, resting her chin on them as she regarded Tabitha. “Let’s talk about you.”

“Kind of a dearth of conversational topics there,” Tabitha said dryly.

Barbara shook her head, sending her blonde curls bouncing. “Not if we use a little deductive reasoning. Like, for instance, your manner of speech – definitely educated. We already knew you were from the Kingdom, since you’re clearly not a native of this forest, but your... _peculiar_ beliefs about magic give us even more. That kind of anti-magic hostility is almost exclusively the purview of the upper class. So, you’re a member of the Court almost definitely, maybe even one of the Original Families or...” Barbara gasped with exaggerated excitement, “ _Royalty_ , maybe? Tabby, darling, are you a runaway princess?”

Tabitha looked down at her right hand, which had been expertly twirling a butter knife, apparently of its own volition. On instinct, she flicked the utensil sharply towards a bag labelled “Flour” in the kitchen, where it punctured the “O” dead center, white dust drifting onto the counter at the impact.

Barbara gaped at the precision strike while Tabitha replied laconically, “Well, I might not have my memories, but I can say for certain that I’m no princess.”

Barbara arched an eyebrow sharply in response. “That was a very smooth move there, but I feel compelled to point out that being a pretty princess in no way hinders your ability to also be deathly dangerous.”

Tabitha took a look at Barbara’s pink lips and soft curves and nodded. “I see your point.”

Something occurred to her and she crossed her arms, giving Barbara a calculating once-over as she asked, “Now, how do _you_ know about the inner workings of the Kingdom, if you live here in the Forest?”

“A girl hears things,” Barbara answered vaguely, offering Tabitha a sweet smile in lieu of a direct answer.

Tabitha wasn’t diverted from her query. “Seems to me you haven’t just _heard_ things...” she trailed off pointedly, hoping that their agreement about honesty from a minute earlier hadn’t already gone by the wayside.

Barbara sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face before replying in an overly casual tone, “Well, I guess there’s no harm in telling you...I used to live out there. In the Kingdom. But I was cast out.”

Huh. Tabitha couldn’t imagine a place with any sense kicking out someone like Barbara. But then, maybe that explained why Tabitha had chosen to come to the Forest and leave the Kingdom – maybe it sucked. “Cast out...like the, uh, the guy shacked up with the vampire?”

“Not exactly.” Barbara’s smile was brittle around the edges. “His expulsion was more the result of his own choices, rather than the fickle winds of destiny...but anyway. Why stay bitter about the past? Especially when the present is _so_ good looking.”

Tabitha frowned, wanting to press for a more detailed answer, but Barbara jumped in with a different subject before she could.

“Anyway, how rude of me, I never explained about the note Bridgit sent me. She wants to know when they get to meet you – apparently one of Ivy’s more talkative hostas has already broken the news of your arrival. Spoilsport.”

“The– the hostas? Told them?”

“Yes, they’re the chattiest of the local foliage, or so Ivy says. None of them talk to me, of course, but Ivy sometimes spends all day twittering away with her plants.”

“Of course she does.”

“So, I told them that you were still settling in, and I’d let them know when you were up for a nice getting-to-know-you dinner. Don’t worry, I won’t let them bother you until you’re ready to handle them – they’re my best friends, but they also only have a handful of social graces between them, not to mention that Bridgit likes to light things on fire that most would prefer remain fire-free, and Ivy doesn’t always remember that the rest of us aren’t immune to poison when she contributes to our bi-monthly potluck dinners.”

“Is that what friends are usually like?” Tabitha asked, genuinely curious, “Kind of...dangerous to your health?”

“Well...in other parts of the world, probably not. But like I said before, here in the Forest, danger’s a foregone conclusion. And really, how good is a friend if they haven’t nearly killed you at least once?”

“So by those standards, Ivy and Bridgit are, uh, good friends?”

Barbara smiled wickedly. “ _Very_ good.”

Tabitha smiled back. “Then I can’t wait to meet them.”

~~~~~

~~~~~

“Helloooooo!!!” A tall woman with emerald skin and a shock of long, wavy red hair called as she burst through the door. Behind her, a shorter figure followed at a more sedate pace.

“Hi, Ivy,” Barbara said patiently, not looking up from putting the finishing touches on the salad, “I see we’ve gone another day without your mastering that complicated procedure we like to call ‘knocking.’”

Ivy rolled her eyes and the other woman, who Tabitha assumed must be Bridgit, laughed, “I gave up on _that_ battle after our first few decades together – you get used to the constant invasions of privacy.”

“...decades?” Tabitha echoed vaguely, scrutinizing the two young-looking women.

“Ooh, hello new person!” Ivy greeted her with excitement, bouncing forward to wrap her up in a tight hug.

“Uh, hi,” Tabitha replied shortly, overwhelmed by the newcomer’s flowery scent and unexpected attack of affection.

Bridgit took a moment to hand Barbara a jug of hot cider, “Just off the coals – should be perfect,” before taking pity on the newcomer and going to reel her over-enthusiastic partner in. “Let the kid breathe,” she admonished lightly, tugging Ivy back by the belt of her coat, “she ain’t even got her memories, doesn’t need you squeezing the life out of her.”

Up close, Tabitha noticed that Bridgit’s face – the only thing not covered by her outfit, which resembled miniaturized chain mail – seemed to glow slightly on one side, as if her brown skin was lit from within by smoldering embers. The other side of her features was wrinkled and puckered with scars. They looked very old, and Tabitha wondered if they still hurt.

While Tabitha was still taking in the two’s appearance, Ivy was waving a hand as if to dismiss Bridgit’s comment. “Pfft, that’s ridiculous. Everyone knows that plants have healing qualities, therefore, I am a healing presence.”

Bridgit snorted, even as she reached to hold Ivy’s hand, “You’re certainly a presence, my love, I’ll give you that.”

Ivy batted Bridgit’s shoulder playfully as Barbara paused in setting the table for long enough to say, “Yes, Tabitha, these two are much older than their maturity would suggest. Almost as old as the Forest, in fact, not that it shows. Lucky duckies.” She directed this last at the couple, who smiled back at her.

“What can I say,” Bridgit held her arms out grandly, “it’s the immortal wood nymph life for me.”

“You’re not a nymph, you’re a _sprite_ ,” Ivy scoffed. “ _I’m_ a nymph.”

“Like there’s a difference,” Bridgit shot back, the easy tempo of their words indicating the age of this particular argument.

“Oh, there is,” Ivy winked, tossing her coat dramatically off her shoulders, “Nymphs are _much_ prettier.”

Tabitha had to agree with that judgment upon inspecting the evidence – the evidence in this case being what Ivy had been hiding under her coat, which was _very_ little. Or very much, depending on what one was talking about. Ivy was now, by most conventional definitions, naked, save some conveniently placed flora winding their way up and down her verdant skin.

“Well, you’ve got me there,” Bridgit acquiesced mockingly, chucking her partner’s chin with affection while Tabitha just stood there, trying to remember how to speak, “I’m happy to play the beast in our story.”

Barbara wagged a finger over her shoulder, pouring the cider, “If you’ll recall, it was Ivy who dismembered that unfortunate hiker last month. I think there’s more than a touch of beast in that beauty.”

“He tried to pick my roses,” Ivy declared, unrepentant, “So I did a little...pruning.”

“I don’t think that’s what they call it when you’re clipping off a _person’s_ _limbs_ , but let’s not quibble over semantics.” Barbara finally turned her attention away from their meal and sighed when she saw Ivy in full. “So, the forgoing-clothes phase continues,” Barbara noted, tone stuck between amusement and disapproval, “I thought that pants, at least, had been added to your wardrobe.”

“Why should I wear the dessicated, processed remains of poor little cotton plants when I don’t have to?” Ivy pouted.

“Getting her to wear the coat was a concession to Oswald,” Bridgit explained, picking said coat up and hanging it on the rack, “He was mother henning Ivy all afternoon about catching a cold in this chilly weather after he found her tending to Ed’s mushroom patch in her skivvies...”

“Ugh, he really doesn’t get the whole spirits-of-nature-don’t-get-sick thing,” Ivy complained, “Babying me like he’s my big brother when, _hello_ , he’s only like a century old. _He’s_ the baby.”

“Tabitha, dear?” Barbara said sweetly when she realized exactly why her companion wasn’t contributing to the conversation, “Do you need me to help you shove your eyes back in your skull? Or would you prefer they remain firmly affixed to Ivy’s chest?”

“What?” Tabitha startled, “I’m, I’m not staring at–”

Barbara shot her an unimpressed look.

“Honestly, I just–,” Tabitha gestured helplessly to the object of her focus before asking a little desperately, “How do the leaves stay on? It doesn’t make sense, like, is there glue involved...?”

“Oh, they’re not attached,” Ivy answered brightly, “They’re part of me.” The leaves in question seemed to give a friendly sort of wave in Tabitha’s direction, and she felt a bit faint.

“I think we’ve spent sufficient time discussing the floriculture of Ivy’s breasts, now, don’t you agree?” Barbara said, matter-of-factly.

“Personally, I don’t think it can be discussed too much,” Bridgit smiled, eyes glittering. (Literally glittering, Tabitha realized, noticing gold-orange flames flicker in her irises).

“You might possibly be biased towards the topic,” Barbara pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Bridgit smirked and cocked her head, acknowledging the truth of that statement.

“Okay! To dinner!” Barbara clapped her hands and turned sharply back to the table.

Tabitha stood still, lingering embarrassment rooting her to the spot.

“Hey, no worries,” Bridgit clapped a friendly hand to Tabitha’s shoulder, “What woman wouldn’t get sidetracked by Ivy’s rolling green plains, you know?”

Ivy giggled, “It’s true.”

“I really wasn’t!” Tabitha tried to defend herself, “Looking at them, I mean! Why would I? I wouldn’t – I mean, not that they’re not _worth_ looking at. They’re nice! Not that nice. I mean, not that they’re _not_ nice, it’s just....”

It was Ivy’s turn to pat Tabitha’s shoulder soothingly. “I know. And don’t worry, your boobs are real nice too.”

“Alright!” Barbara said, flinging her hands in the air, “The next person who mentions cleavage of any kind is eating supper outside in the cold!”

Bridgit immediately replied, “Well, wouldn’t that make the evening go tits up!”

Barbara flung a spoon at her. Bridgit dodged it with an easy laugh, tossing a few sparks from her fingers in Barbara’s direction. In seconds, the nice dinner devolved into an all-out, magic-enhanced food fight.

Ivy was charming the scattered salad into attacking their ankles, Bridgit busy lighting the tablecloth on fire, and Barbara marshalling an army of flatware to mount her offense, with all three of them screeching and laughing until they were gasping for air – that was when Tabitha felt it, like the click of a tumbler slotting into place. The cabin was more on fire than a wooden cabin should probably be and their dinner had resurrected itself into botanical army, and Tabitha was pretty sure she was feeling absolutely content.

Through the hubbub she caught Barbara’s gaze for a minute and they shared a smile, before Tabitha dove headfirst into the melee.

She had Bridgit in a half-nelson when the fire sprite grinned up at her and gasped out, “By the way, welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks,” Tabitha grinned back, “I think I’m gonna like it here.”

~~~~~

The next day, Barbara declared it high time for a tour of their little corner of the Forest. She bundled herself up in a luxurious fur coat, while Tabitha decided to stick with the layers of leather she’d arrived in. Before they stepped out, Barbara tutted something vague about the cold weather and wrapped a cashmere scarf around Tabitha’s throat, fingers brushing lightly against Tabitha’s skin as she carefully arranged its soft folds.

They closed the door behind them but didn’t lock it – Barbara’s response was just to laugh when Tabitha asked if they should. As they set off, Barbara held out an arm with an inviting smile. Tabitha only hesitated for a second before accepting, hooking her arm through Barbara’s so that they walked side by side, the warmth of their bodies in close proximity more than enough to keep out the fall chill.

They began with a tour of Ivy’s gardens (from a safe distance, of course) and then moved on to the lake (where a person with sufficient courage might catch some nice trout, assuming they had the correct bait, and the fish weren’t vacationing in an adjacent dimension, which they were want to do). They were on their way to what Barbara called ‘the least carnivorous raspberry patch’ when they ran into another couple out for a walk. The two men were a study in complimentary opposites: one was tall and angular, with thick-rimmed glasses and an excitable air, and the other short and sharp-edged, with a lopsided walk and an almost birdlike quality to his features.  

“Ozzie!” Barbara greeted the smaller of the pair, leaning in to kiss the air next to his cheek before waving a hand down the sharp line of his suit, “Look at you in your flashy duds...” Oswald tugged proudly on one shiny lapel, “...aren't you just the cock of the walk.” Oswald froze, mid-posture.

His partner, who Tabitha figured was Edward, snorted a laugh, unsuccessfully trying to cover it with a cough when Oswald rounded on him, betrayed. 

"Oh, come on, that was a little funny," Ed insisted, adjusting Oswald’s tie in a soothing gesture.

" _Very_ little," Oswald scowled, unappeased. Tabitha noticed with some apprehension that his canines were rather longer and sharper than they’d been a minute earlier.

Ed leaned down and kissed Oswald’s nose, finally clearing away his pout (and his fangs).

“Anyway, Barbara,” Oswald moved on pointedly, “Shouldn’t you be introducing us to your new companion, here?”

“Of course! Where are my manners...” Barbara drew Tabitha closer to her side with a proud grin, “This is Tabitha. We’re pretty sure she’s from the Kingdom, but that’s about all we know. When I found her, she was wandering around alone in the middle of the night. Apparently, our local goody-two-shoes witch got up on the wrong side of her broom and decided to put some sort of memory spell on our poor dear Tabitha.”

“Memory spell!” Ed repeated eagerly, “Fascinating! I wonder if it was a curse or a charm, because that sort of etymology does matter, particularly in terms of life expectancy. I bet if I ran a few tests on your brain –”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Edward,” Barbara cut in, tone sweet in a way Tabitha realized meant she was at her most dangerous, “Tabitha will be just fine without you poking or prodding her brain, or anything else.”

Edward nodded, disappointed. “If you change your mind, my lab is always open!” he said, addressing Tabitha.

“Thanks,” she replied gruffly, choosing not to add that she’d rather eat a bucket of rusty nails than let those twitchy hands of his get anywhere near her, especially when they were holding laboratory implements.

“That witch is a blemish on our local society,” Oswald stated haughtily, “warning off the food supply from going into the woods, throwing up a fuss if you leave bodies in her yard – and don’t forget, she’s the one who put that damn boundary enchantment in place.”

“What?” Tabitha turned a questioning gaze to Barbara, who was glaring daggers at Oswald.

Ed happily began to explain, “The overly virtuous Lee decided some time ago that what lived in the woods should stay in the woods – now any magical creatures that her system of morality deems to be evil are trapped inside the bounds of the Forest.”

“It’s put quite the dent in my meal plan,” Oswald grumbled, “though, fortunately, humans are still idiots, and so wander into the woods of their own will often enough.”

“And,” Ed chimed in, “so I’ve so far managed to maintain an immunity to the spell, I go on supply runs every few weeks, and I always try and bring back a juicy morsel or two for my love.” He ran his knuckles gently across Oswald’s cheekbone, and Oswald leaned into the touch, the two wearing matching doting expressions.

“Yes, and speaking of juicy morsels, I heard you brought the Fox with you on your last trip to the Kingdom?” Barbara’s eyes had a naughty twinkle about them, and Tabitha realized why when Oswald straightened up sharply, jealousy plain on his features.

“That’s right,” Ed answered, oblivious to Oswald’s mood swing, “It’s been very helpful to have an extra set of hands.”

“Oh, I’ll bet his hands are _very_ helpful. So sad that _you_ can’t go with your love, Oswald,” Barbara simpered, “But I’m sure that the Fox keeps Ed good company.”

With steam almost visibly pouring out of Oswald’s ears, Ed finally picked up on the tone shift and hurried to reassure his irate partner, “Of _course_ I wish it was you coming with me, Oswald, you know that. Foxy’s a good conversationalist, but he doesn’t have any of your...” Ed slipped a hand into Oswald’s jacket, melting against his side, “ _passion_.”

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Barbara announced breezily, “We’ll see you around.”

“Always a pleasure, Barbara,” Oswald bade them a distracted farewell, attention mainly on Ed’s wandering hands.

Barbara heaved an exaggerated sigh as they left the starry-eyed couple behind. “Those two, still in the honeymoon phase. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so nauseating.” She turned to Tabitha and found her companion giving her a shrewd look.

“You didn’t want Oswald to mention the boundary around the Forest,” Tabitha realized. “That’s why you said what you did about Ed and the Fox, to distract him.”

Barbara’s mouth fell open for a second before she could pull on a cool mask of nonchalance. “My, my, aren’t you an observant one.” She tried to slip her arm free of Tabitha’s, but Tabitha grabbed her hand on instinct, keeping her from pulling away.

“Barbara,” she began firmly, “It’s ok. Whatever it is that bothers you...you should know that I wouldn’t care. I don’t give a damn if you aren’t able to cross over. Just like Ed doesn’t love Oswald any less because he can’t go with him.” Barbara’s expression was unreadable, so Tabitha just concluded simply, “You should know that.”

“Thank you, Tabitha,” Barbara finally said, hand relaxing in Tabitha’s grip. “I appreciate it.” And just like that, her usual peppy smile was back in place, and she was twining their fingers together like nothing had happened. “Anyway! We were off to the raspberry patch – like I was telling you, these ones have the fewest sets of teeth...”

Tabitha couldn’t be sure, but she thought something had shifted minutely in Barbara’s expression. Like her usual mask was slightly off-kilter, and Tabitha had been granted access to just a touch more of the real Barbara than anyone else. So, she smiled enough to let Barbara know she was listening to her spiel on navigating the treacherous waters of berry-picking, and decided that it was okay if she only got to know the real Barbara in bits and pieces. After all, Tabitha was only getting to know _herself_ in bits and pieces – maybe it was only right that things happen this way.

~~~~~

Time passed differently in the Forest. Tabitha wasn’t sure in what _way_ it was different, but she was quite sure that it was. For instance, sometimes the night would go on for so long that the Forest’s residents would just give up and have breakfast in the dark. Other times, the sun would begin to rise, but then get stage fright and race back down to peer over the treetops for a few hours. Sometimes a person might go out for a stroll in the apple orchard and come back to find that they had somehow returned at a time earlier than when they’d left. Young trees turned old in a fortnight, and the full moon tended to hog much more of the lunar cycle than was its due. To any rational mind, the workings of the Forest made absolutely no sense. To Tabitha, it felt like she was finally in step with the rhythm of the world around her.

So, to say that Tabitha settled into a routine with Barbara would be incorrect – the Forest didn’t allow for anything so mundane as a predictable daily regimen. But to say that the two found a mutually rewarding pattern of living together would be closer to the truth. Put simply, they were very happy. Happier than Tabitha could ever remember being, though a little voice at the back of her mind sometimes reminded her that that wasn’t really saying much, given her amnesiac condition.

Still, Tabitha was falling in love with her new life a little more every day, and she was coming to terms with the fact that it wasn’t just the surroundings she was so enamored with. Barbara continued to be cheerful, seductive, cunning, and secretive in turns, depending on the day and her mood. Tabitha found that she liked the way Barbara’s whole demeanor could change on a dime, playful banter evaporating to reveal cold anger, a fierce protective streak bubbling up over gentle ribbing – catching glimpses of the depths beneath Barbara’s affected shallow persona was intoxicating.

But, in her memory-less condition, Tabitha wasn’t sure how to go about communicating her feelings to Barbara, or if she even should. She was fairly certain that even before her mind was wiped, she hadn’t been skilled in the ways of emotional expression. And now that she didn’t even have her past life experiences to call on, the prospect of telling Barbara that she liked her was almost too daunting to contemplate.

Since her usual solution to problems relating to her amnesia was to ask Barbara about it – not a desirable choice in this circumstance – she resolved to bring the matter up with her next closest friend, Bridgit.

Tabitha liked Ivy well enough, and found Oswald and Ed to be entertaining company, but Bridgit was the Forest resident who most shared Tabitha’s need for a moment of uninterrupted quiet.

The two would sit together in silence, looking out at one of the many beautiful vistas their Forest home offered, Bridgit sometimes conjuring small flames to dance about while Tabitha sharpened her knives or waxed her crossbow.

This particular evening, with the crescent moon playing hide-and-seek among the treetops, Tabitha broke their customary silence.

“Bridgit?”

Bridgit raised her lone eyebrow in question, the sparks she’d been shooting lazily into the sky fading away to nothing.

“I’ve got something I’d like your advice on...” Tabitha began delicately, “something I can’t ask Barbara.”

Bridgit turned decisively towards Tabitha to show that she had her full attention. “Okay, shoot.”

Tabitha took a deep breath in through her nose, then admitted in a rush, “I think I like Barbara.”

Bridgit stared at her, quizzical. “And...?”

“Well...I don’t know how to tell her that.”

Bridgit continued to stare, comprehension finally dawning. “Oh my god. You two aren’t sleeping together yet?”

“What? No!”

Bridgit snorted a laugh, not bothering to try and cover it up. “I can’t believe this!” she chuckled, “Tabitha, everyone around here assumed you two have been going at it for _ages_.”

“Well, we _haven’t_ ,” Tabitha grumbled, crossing her arms peevishly.

“No kidding, you’d probably be more chilled out if you had.”

Tabitha rolled her eyes skyward. “Right. So, now that you know, do you have any _useful_ advice?

 “For all your unresolved sexual tension?” Bridgit drawled.

“I mean, yeah –”

“ _Resolve it.”_

Tabitha sighed. “Okay.”

“The sexual tension, that is.”

“Mmhmm.”

“By having sex,” Bridgit clarified.

“Yep, I got that.”

“Good.”

The two settled back into silence for a moment before Tabitha asked, “How did you get together with Ivy?”

Bridgit scratched her covered head, squeezing one eye shut as she conjured up the memory. “Well, let’s see...I lit something up that was under Ivy’s protection...an old maple tree, maybe? Or an oak? Anyway, she got pissed as all hell and started trying to choke me to death with those vines of hers, so I sent some flames after her.... Things escalated, and before you know it, bam! We’re putting all that energy to better use.”

Tabitha frowned. “Well. I don’t think lighting Barbara’s things on fire is the answer for me.”

Bridgit cocked her head, grinning slyly. “I mean, that depends on what sort of _things_ of Barbara’s we’re talking about...”

“Alright,” Tabitha stood abruptly, “Good talk, thanks for the advice. I’m gonna go.”

Bridgit’s laughter echoed through the trees after Tabitha as she beat a hasty retreat.

~~~~~

Although Bridgit hadn’t actually offered any concrete suggestions, talking with her had solidified something for Tabitha: she wasn’t alone in her feelings for Barbara. She couldn’t be, right? Not if it looked to the rest of the world like they were already a couple? That was the conclusion Tabitha clung to, anyway, while she watched Barbara set the table and tried pluck up the courage to speak.

Barbara noticed Tabitha’s agitation as she retrieved a quartet of wine glasses from the cabinet, setting them down on the table and then going to where Tabitha was slouched in an armchair, one foot nervously tapping against the carpet.

“Are you alright, honey?” she asked, startling Tabitha out of her thoughts.

“What? Oh, I’m fine.”

Tabitha’s cagey tone did nothing to convince Barbara, who put her hands on her hips and arched an eyebrow. “Really? Because you look a bit peaky to me. You’re not getting sick, are you?” Barbara pressed a palm against Tabitha’s forehead, checking her temperature before she could protest. “If you are, Ivy’s got all kinds of medicines that she makes from her plants. Though, be warned, vivid hallucinations are a side effect of almost all of them.”

“No, I’m not sick,” Tabitha batted away Barbara’s hands, “It’s just– I, uh... I....”

Barbara looked at her expectantly. “You’re going to have to finish that sentence out loud, buttercup, I’m not a psychic.”

“And I’m not good with words,” Tabitha growled, shoving herself up from her chair, “as I think we’ve previously established.”

“Aww...” Barbara turned affectionate when she saw how upset Tabitha really was, “But you’re _very_ good at many other things.”

Tabitha grumbled a noise of disagreement, scowling down at her shoes.

Barbara huffed and lifted Tabitha’s chin with one delicate finger until their eyes met, before saying seriously, “I have seen you nail a rabbit in the eye with a knife from fifty feet. I’ve seen you eat Ivy’s confectionary experiments without flinching. I’ve seen you beat Oswald in a staring contest! Now, how many people can make a vampire blink first, hmm?”  Barbara smiled coyly. “You’re one of a kind, baby.”

In the face of Barbara saying exactly what she needed to hear, Tabitha felt even more incapable of expressing herself with words, but suddenly, it didn’t matter. This was a time for her specialty: action.

With determination in her eyes and an armada of butterflies in her stomach, Tabitha reached out to frame Barbara’s face with both hands and press a firm kiss to her lips.

Barbara let out a surprised “mmph!” at first, but then sighed and melted into the kiss.

“Finally!” Barbara sighed as they broke for air, slipping her hands around Tabitha’s waist and pulling her close.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Tabitha mumbled against Barbara’s jaw.

“I mean, ‘finally,’ you kissed me! It’s not like I could kiss _you_ , you were like a lost little kitten, all vulnerable and confused and memory-less!”

“So?”

“So!” Barbara pulled back enough that Tabitha could see her pout. “It would have felt like taking advantage. And I promised you I wouldn’t do that.”

Tabitha felt dizzy with the intensity of the affection and desire she felt for Barbara in that moment. Deciding that bypassing _talking_ and heading straight to _doing_ had worked well for her in the recent past, Tabitha grabbed Barbara by the waist and lifted her up, closing the distance between them and the dining table so she could set Barbara on top of it. Tabitha pressed in between her legs and kissed her soundly, eliciting a happy hum from Barbara, who wrapped herself more tightly around Tabitha. She wound her ankles against the backs of Tabitha’s thighs, sneaky hands slipping up under her jacket and pushing it off her shoulders before going to fiddle with the clasps on her shirt.

Tabitha tried to mirror the movement, but Barbara’s pretty silk dress proved more difficult to remove, especially when they were so loathe to let go of each other for any length of time. There was a tearing noise and Barbara gasped as the neckline of her dress gave way where Tabitha had pulled on it with a bit too much zeal.

“Sorry,” Tabitha said.

“I don’t think you are,” Barbara countered with mock disapproval.

“Yeah, I’m not,” Tabitha agreed, shoving the torn fabric aside and ducking down to explore the newly exposed skin with her mouth.

Barbara’s delighted laughter turned into a moan, and she buried her hands in Tabitha’s hair, pulling her even more tightly to her chest. Tabitha, in her enthusiasm, sent the table rocking back on its legs, knocking half the place settings to the ground with a shattering of glass and ceramic.

“Barbara, Tabitha?” The two froze at the sound of Ed’s concerned voice, becoming clearer as he pushed open their front door and stepped inside, “Is everything all right in– oh dear!”

The pastry tray Ed had been carrying hit the ground with a dull clang as he absorbed the scene in front of him.

“What’s going on?” Oswald demanded to know, following his partner inside before Ed could stop him. He froze alongside Ed a moment later, hands flying up to paw at his eyes as if they’d been burned. Tabitha scrambled to pull her shirt shut, cursing under her breath and wishing she’d remembered that they were expecting company for dinner before she started to ravish Barbara in the middle of the kitchen. Barbara didn’t even bother to try and cover herself, instead choosing to fix the two intruders with a deadly glare.

“For goodness’ sake,” Oswald squawked while Ed continued to stare at Barbara and Tabitha, open-mouthed, “On the dining table? Really?”

“I don’t know...” Barbara said in a sing-song voice, “It’s not really any worse than that time I walked in on you tickling Ed’s ivory on top of the grand piano in your sitting room.”

“Oh my,” Ed squeaked, blushing.

“Fair enough,” Oswald coughed, turning to shuffle Ed back out the door they’d just come through, “We’ll just leave you to...each other.”

“Toodles! Oh, and is that baklava?” Barbara asked, peering with interest at the abandoned pastry tray, still sitting miraculously upright on the ground.

“Um, yes,” Ed answered, flustered, “I think I finally perfected the recipe.”

“How nice. That can stay,” Barbara commanded.

“Yes, of course! Enjoy...!” Ed’s voice died out as Oswald finally managed to drag him outside, the door slamming shut behind them.

Barbara turned her attention back to Tabitha, who was clutching the folds of her shirt shut with white knuckles.

“Aww...” Barbara began to rub gentle circles on Tabitha’s upper arms, “Did the silly boys upset you?”

When Tabitha didn’t answer, Barbara ducked forward to start pressing light kisses across her face, gently dusting Tabitha’s nose, her cheeks, her forehead. Eventually, Tabitha began to thaw, hands releasing their death-grip on her clothes and sliding back down to Barbara’s waist. A single thought cut through the haze of her embarrassment: the realization that her fingers felt like they’d been made for the explicit purpose of resting just there, on the curve of Barbara’s hips.

“Let’s forget about them,” Tabitha declared. “We’ve got much better things to do.”

“Ooh, yes we do,” Barbara scooted closer with a mischievous grin. “Let’s maybe not forget about that baklava, though, because I am actually kind of hungry.”

“I’m hungry,” Tabitha murmured, tongue flicking out to tease the seam of Barbara’s lips, “but not for _that_ kind of dessert...”

Barbara’s head fell back as she laughed. “Oh, Tabby, you’re lucky you’ve already won my heart, because that was a terrible line.”

“Hey, give me a break – I must have lost all my moves along with my memories.”

“Yes, let’s choose to believe that,” Barbara nodded diplomatically. “On a different note...” her seductive expression took on a serious tinge, “I just want to be clear: is this our new normal? You and me...” She leaned forward, lips brushing the shell of Tabitha’s ear, “ _together_...”

“Mmm, I hope so...” Tabitha turned to capture Barbara’s mouth, smiling into the kiss, “because I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting this. You.”

“Good,” Barbara giggled happily, running her hand down Tabitha’s flank, “Glad to have that cleared up. Then, if you don’t mind, I’d very much like it if you took me over to our bed so we can make wild love all night long, possibly with breaks for the occasional pastry, to keep up our strength.”

“Hell yeah,” Tabitha agreed fervently, before proceeding to do exactly as Barbara said.

~~~~~

Bridgit showed up the next morning bearing a few loaves of freshly baked bread, as was her weekly custom. This time, however, she was grinning widely when Tabitha opened the door.

“Hey there. Have a good night?” she asked, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

“Yes,” Tabitha answered stiffly, taking the bread and trying to close the door in Bridgit’s face. Bridgit laughed and threw a shoulder against it before it could click shut.

“C’mon, buddy,” Bridgit jeered, “I just want to know if those issues we were talking about the other day have been _taken care of_.”

Tabitha’s glare could’ve bore a hole through solid iron. “They have. As you clearly already know.”

Bridgit looked up innocently, biting the inside of her cheek. “I may have run into Ed and Oswald last night...”

“Great,” Tabitha groaned, rubbing her temple, “Remind me to kill them the next time I see them.”

“Good luck with that, we’ve all tried it at one point or another, but they’re a scrappy little duo,” Bridgit said agreeably. “And anyway, don’t blame the poor guys! You gave them quite a shock. Ed was blushing red as a tomato, and I don’t think Ozzie’s ever seen that much of a woman before, he could be permanently traumatized.”

“I hope he was,” Tabitha declared, “Maybe then he’ll leave us alone for a while. Like _you_ should, too.”

“Ooh, I get it!” Bridgit raised her palms, placating, “When Ivy and I first got together, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Totally family un-friendly for at least half a century...”

“Uh-huh....” Tabitha grunted, trying again to close the door.

“Anyway! I’ll let everyone know that you two are in a sex-quarantine for a while.”

“Please do not do that.”

“Too late!” Bridgit grinned, finally shifting her weight off the door so it could swing shut. “I’ll see you guys in a decade or two!”

Barbara, who had been listening to the whole exchange with great amusement from the kitchen, sauntered over to wrap her arms around Tabitha from behind, hooking her chin over her shoulder.

“A couple of decades, huh?” she purred, fingers wandering across Tabitha’s abdomen.

“Yeah, I know...”  Tabitha tilted her head to murmur in Barbara’s ear, “I think she’s seriously underestimating us.” She snapped her teeth playfully at Barbara’s neck, making her squeal and leap away.

Tabitha chased a giggling Barbara all the way back to their bed, where they wrestled, immediately getting tangled in the sheets. Barbara took the lead when she delivered a whack with a pillow to Tabitha’s face and she quickly pressed her advantage, climbing triumphantly on top of Tabitha. “You are absolutely right,” she panted, pinning Tabitha’s wrists above her head, “I am not letting you out of this bed for at least a century.”

Tabitha smirked up at her, heart pounding joyfully in her chest. “Better get on with it then...clock’s ticking.”

Barbara’s wicked smile grew as she whispered back, “Oh, don’t worry. I plan on _taking my time_...”

~~~~~

~~~~~

Even in a magical Forest, two lovers can’t stay in bed indefinitely. And so, Barbara and Tabitha slowly rejoined the rest of the neighborhood in their old rhythms of life. Things didn’t seem that different now that they were romantically entangled, especially not outside the bounds of their cottage. Inside, things were a great deal more X-rated, to their mutual delight. But in the greater scheme of things, what they did stayed pretty much the same. It was in the small details and the overarching flavor of living that they found meaningful change. A touch here, a sense of belonging there – being half of a whole wasn’t something either of them had known before, and it was scary and thrilling and wonderful all at once.

Tabitha had thought she was happy in the beginning of her new life with Barbara, but that could hardly compare to the kind of intense, yet contented bliss she now found on a daily basis.

But, nothing stays perfect forever, especially when there’s a witch’s curse involved.

It all started with Barbara coming home covered in blood from one of her “walks.” That’s what she called the incidents where she’d disappear for hours at a time, often returning with the corpses of deer or wild boar or, on one memorable occasion, a horse, still dolled up in riding gear. She’d tell tales about finding the animals already wounded and finishing them off, or getting them as a gift from one of their oh-so-generous neighbors. She never tried to explain how she’d transported the animals, which were often twice her size, and Tabitha didn’t push. Although the dishonesty sometimes rankled, she didn’t take it personally. She’d had an idea of what was actually going on since the first day she’d met Barbara, and had decided early on that she’d wait for Barbara to tell her the truth on her own, she wouldn’t badger her for it. 

That trust was being tested now, however, as Barbara tore off her stained dress and shoved it to the bottom of the wardrobe, all while pointedly ignoring Tabitha, who was watching from the dining table where she’d been putting together a picnic for the two of them.

“Do I have to ask?” Tabitha finally said when it seemed Barbara was content to simply put on a fresh outfit and pretend nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Ask about what?” Barbara replied coolly, as if she wasn’t currently wiping dried blood – Tabitha hoped none of it was hers – off of her forehead.

“About why you look like you just killed a small village.”

Barbara laughed humorlessly. “It wasn’t a whole village.”

“Okay, then.” Tabitha tilted her head, trying to remain calm. “How many?”

Barbara hesitated for a beat, then: “Three.”

“Are you hurt?”

Barbara didn’t bother voicing a reply, just shooting Tabitha a withering look.

“Good,” Tabitha said. She waited again, hoping Barbara might not make her drag out every detail, but that was apparently in vain. With a sigh she pushed herself to her feet, going over to where Barbara stood in front of the mirror, inspecting her reflection.

“I’m not going to ask you _how_ this all happened...” she said softly, hands going to Barbara’s shoulders and sliding softly down to hold her arms, “But I’d like to know _why_.”

Barbara was frozen under Tabitha’s touch, save for a slight tremor in her hands, matched by something that looked like fear in her eyes. “Please, Tabby, don’t ask me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because...” Barbara’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, “I don’t want to have to lie to you.”

The sound of urgent knocking at the door had Tabitha reaching for the knife she kept strapped to her belt, nerves stretched taut by whatever the hell had rattled Barbara so badly.

“Barbara! Tabitha! Are you in there?”

Tabitha recognized Ed’s voice, high and excited on the other side of the door, and relaxed minutely.

“My, my, I wonder what he wants,” Barbara chirped, her dread from just moments earlier visible only in the taut edges of her smile. She quickly adjusted the hem of her clean dress, taking one last look in the mirror to check for any lingering traces of blood before going to open the door.

“Hello, Edward, Oswald,” Barbara nodded to the animated sorcerer and his more composed companion, who was standing behind him and looking pleased. “What can we do for you?”

“I’ve got excellent news for Tabitha!” Ed gushed, not waiting for Barbara to step back before bursting over the threshold and brandishing a tattered piece of parchment in Tabitha’s face.

“The hell’s this?” Tabitha grumbled, grabbing Ed’s wrist and shoving it back until the writing on the paper he was holding came into focus.

She read the thick block letters headlined above a grainy wood-cut image out loud, its meaning not sinking in right away: “MISSING: LADY TABITHA GALAVAN.”

There was a beat of silence. Tabitha stared at the picture, simultaneously recognizing her own image and not, like it was a stranger she couldn’t quite place.

Ed beamed proudly. “I found it when I was out in the woods! I was gathering some lichen samples – there’s a particularly rare one that grows on the roots of certain fir trees and has a variety of fascinating magical properties –”

“Edward,” Oswald interrupted kindly, “I think we can skip this part of the story.”

“Ah! Right, of course.” Ed pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and continued, “Anyway, I heard screaming and went to investigate. But when I got there – nothing! Just blood spatters and some scraps of metal.”

Tabitha tore her eyes away from the poster to stare at Barbara, who in turn was staring open-mouthed with horror at Ed.

“I would hypothesize that there were several men there, likely soldiers of the Kingdom judging from what was left of their armor, and one of the hungrier residents of our Forest got to them. But! One of the unfortunate gentlemen had a rucksack, which must have been thrown clear of the mess before he got devoured, and in it, I found this!”

Ed giggled and Oswald gave his shoulder a proud squeeze. Tabitha felt sick. She couldn’t look at Barbara.

She forced herself to read the small print on the poster, each word like a blow to her heart: “For any information leading to the recovery of Tabitha Galavan: her brother, Theodore Galavan, prime executor of the Court, offers a sum of one thousand gold bars. The Lady Galavan was last seen entering the Dark Forest, in pursuit of the Wolf. Any information regarding the beast or its whereabouts will also be rewarded handsomely.”

“This is great, right?” Ed asked, showing his first signs of hesitation as Tabitha stared blankly down at the poster. “I mean, we know who you are now! And you’re famous! And _rich_ , too, if that reward is anything to go by.”

“You _idiot_ ,” Barbara hissed. Ed turned to her, eyes full of hurt confusion. She took a threatening step towards him. “What have you _done_.”

“I don’t understand,” Ed muttered, distraught, “I thought this would be good. I thought I did _good_.”

“You _did_ do good, my darling,” Oswald consoled him, “These two are just being irrational...”

“ _Irrational_?” Barbara exploded in rage, “This moronic excuse for an upper primate just ruined my life!”

“How _dare_ you speak to Ed that way,” Oswald screeched, fangs descending as he put himself between his lover and Barbara.

Barbara growled at him, the sound low in her throat, and suddenly Oswald wasn’t the only one baring too-sharp teeth.

Through it all, Tabitha didn’t say a word. She just grabbed her jacket and her crossbow, and out of habit, the picnic basket, and left out the back door while Barbara and Oswald were still circling each other, snarling.

She walked without seeing, her feet taking her instinctively into the darkest part of the woods, the part she’d never been in before. The part that didn’t remind her with its every leaf, its every branch, of Barbara. She stumbled through the underbrush, path long gone, pushed on by something that was shaped like rage but that left her feeling empty rather than fiery.

The Forest’s usual pleasant scent of cedar and pine gave way to something stronger and mustier, and the trees began to hoard shadows around their trunks, keeping the bright sun at bay. Under better circumstances, Tabitha would have recognized these clues as a magical “Trespassers Beware” sign, but she was too wrapped up in her own feelings of shock and betrayal to recognize the way the greenery was turning gray, the colors shrinking away from something dark and frightening.

The uneven ground developed a downward gradient, the dirt turning to mud that sucked greedily at the bottom of her boots. Every step forward grew increasingly difficult, until her ankle finally caught on a treacherous root and she was thrown down onto the wet, stinking earth.

She pushed herself up on her elbows and came abruptly face to face with a pair of dull yellow eyes, rising slowly out of the muck in front of her.

“Grundy....” the cavernous mouth beneath the eyes growled.

“Uh...hey...” she replied.

“ _Grundy_!” the massive, gray-blue monster bellowed, his putrid breath blowing her hair back.

“Is that your name?” she asked testily, having been through far too much that day to feel anything like fear. “Use your words!”

“I, Grundy!” the creature roared at her.

“Why are you yelling your own name at me?” she shouted back, “That’s weird!”

After a moment’s reflection, Tabitha realized that perhaps she shouldn’t be throwing stones from within her own glass house of identity issues.

“But not that weird,” she amended.

“...Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday,” Grundy responded.

“That’s nice,” Tabitha sighed as she dragged herself into a sitting position, crossing her legs and reaching for the picnic basket she’d dropped when she fell. Grundy eyed her movement warily.

“You hungry, big guy?” she asked, pulling out a sandwich. Rye bread and venison, Barbara’s peculiar favorite, she realized with a blunt stab of pain in her chest.

“Grundy...hungry...” he rumbled hopefully.

Tabitha held out the sandwich. “Knock yourself out.”

With something that might be called a smile on a different face, Grundy took the offering from her.  His massive hand dwarfed hers as he picked up the sandwich and then tossed the entire thing into his gaping mouth, swallowing it in one go.

He pointed eagerly at the picnic basket. “Grundy...?”

“Alright,” Tabitha patted the ground next to her, “We can have lunch together, I guess. This is your swamp, after all.”

Grundy gave a happy sort of growl and squelched up the embankment to sit beside her. She took out her own sandwich and then handed him the rest of the basket. He looked at it for a moment, and then took a bite out of the handle. Tabitha opened her mouth to tell him that wood pulp wasn’t usually part of a healthy diet, but then thought, the hell with it. Who knows what swamp monsters eat?

She took a contemplative bite of her tomato-and-chicken sourdough.

“So, Grundy,” Tabitha said conversationally, “You ever been betrayed by someone you thought you loved?”

“Solomon Grundy....died on a Sunday...” he said significantly, casting his eyes out across the slimy waters of his home.

“Hmm,” Tabitha nodded as if she understood. And maybe on some level, she did.

“Grundy...?” he asked, gesturing to her.

“Yeah. There was someone...someone who I thought really cared about me, who promised not to lie to me, and she...well. She lied about the biggest, worst thing she could.”

Grundy growled.

“That was my first thought too,” Tabitha agreed, “But killing her would just...it would just _hurt_.” She closed her eyes, wishing she could cut all these conflicting feelings out of her chest. “Because as ridiculous as it is, I think I still love her. But how can I ever trust her again? It would be _stupid_ to trust her again.”

She pulled the poster out from where she’d shoved it in her jacket, smoothing out its crumpled corners to look down at the answers to almost all the questions she’d had about her past. Questions that, frankly, she hadn’t really cared about during her tenure in the Dark Forest, and couldn’t quite bring herself to care about now.

“Grundy friend!” Grundy said with some excitement, jabbing a meaty finger at the picture.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Tabitha agreed. “Apparently I’m a ‘Lady.’ And I have a brother. But...” she traced a finger over his name, “It doesn’t feel like I have a brother. Not really. And I don’t think it’s just because I still don’t remember him.”

“Grundy?”

“I know it sounds weird. But...maybe there’s a reason I don’t miss anything from my past life. Maybe there wasn’t anything to miss.”

Grundy nodded.

“So what the hell do I do now?” Tabitha balled up the poster, chucking it into the swamp. Grundy watched it sink with a sad expression. “Do I go back to the old life that I don’t remember? It’s not like I can stay here, not now that Barbara–... not now that things have changed.”

“...Grundy,” was all the advice her companion could offer.

“You know, this conversation would be a lot more interesting if you said something other than ‘Grundy,’” Tabitha griped.

Grundy opened his mouth but Tabitha shushed him. “Just don’t,” she sighed, shaking her head.

A branch cracked behind them and they whirled around in unison, Grundy standing up to his full, terrifying height while Tabitha pulled the crossbow from her back and aimed it into the trees.

With silent, graceful steps, a huge gray wolf materialized from the darkness, its intelligent eyes fixed on Grundy.

For a few seconds, Tabitha thought seriously about shooting the creature. She didn’t have to kill it, she could just wound it. It would deserve it. _She_ would deserve it.

 But Tabitha didn’t do it. She just reached up to pat Grundy’s muddy elbow comfortingly, saying, “Don’t worry, buddy. She’s not here to hurt _you_.”

The wolf took a tentative step forward, and when its paw cleared the edge of the trees it wasn’t a paw anymore, but a human foot. Barbara came out of the shadows, fur retreating into her skin, claws morphing into fingernails, and razor-sharp canines disappearing into pink gums. Her trademark red cloak flowed into being, wrapping around her as she took another slow step forward.

“I’m not here to hurt you either, Tabitha,” she said, eyes flickering between the crossbow Tabitha was still gripping tightly and Grundy’s massive fists, raised apprehensively at his sides. “Once I realized what direction you were headed in, I thought for sure that I’d have to rescue you from our resident bog monster. He's not usually this...sociable.”

“What, Grundy?” Tabitha elbowed the giant companionably. “He’s a kitten.”

“Okey-dokey...” Barbara muttered under her breath, incredulous.

“Well, now that you know that I don’t require any rescuing, you can feel free and _leave_.” Tabitha gestured pointedly with the butt of her crossbow.

Barbara held out her hands, tone conciliatory, “Tabby– ”

“No,” Tabitha cut her off viciously. “You don’t get to call me that. That name wasn’t meant for the mouth of a liar.”

Barbara flinched like she’d been struck. “I– I’m sorry. Tabitha, I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you about the whole I’m-the-wolf-you-came-here-to-hunt thing but –”

“The _wolf_?” Tabitha scoffed, “I don’t give a damn that you’re the wolf! I’ve never cared about that.”

“You never...? You’ve known all along?”

Tabitha rolled her eyes at Barbara’s shock. “Duh.”

“ _How_?”

“I lost my memories, not my common sense. I mean, I met you about three seconds after I saw the wolf, and then ever since I’ve been living with you, we’ve had a constant stream of fresh meat with conspicuous bite marks in it...two plus two equals you’re a freakin’ werewolf. Whatever! That was your burden to bear.” Tabitha lunged forward to get in Barbara’s face.

“What I’m _pissed_ about is you finding out essential information about me and my past, and then _purposefully_ keeping it from me – and don’t try and deny it, I saw your face when Ed showed up. The remains he found must have belonged to the Kingdom soldiers who brought this poster into the woods...the soldiers _you_ killed.”

“The soldiers I _ate whole_ ,” Barbara snarled. “Cleaner that way. But somehow Ed _still_ managed to get his hands on one of those damn posters, nosy bastard –”

“And if he hadn’t? What? You were just going to keep this from me?”

“Yes!”

“Why? You said you’d be honest with me, you said you cared about me –”

“I _do_ care about you! That’s why I couldn’t tell you! If I told you then you might leave.”

“What? Why would I leave?”

“Why _wouldn’t_ you?” Barbara laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. “When we first met I joked that you might be a princess, and then it turns out you practically are one! All you’d have to do is go back home and you could have everything. Luxury, power, even family. What could possibly keep you here?”

“ _You_ , dumbass!”

Barbara blinked, her mouth falling open.

“I would have stayed here for you,” Tabitha repeated. “But now...”

“No, no, please...” Barbara reached out, pleading, “I can’t...I _can’t_...”

“You can’t what?” Tabitha sneered, anger boiling in her veins, “You can’t be truthful? You can’t let me make my own decisions?”

“I can’t lose you!” Barbara shouted, grabbing Tabitha’s face in both hands, “I _love_ you!”

“Shut up!” Tabitha shouted back, before grabbing the front of Barbara’s cloak and dragging her into a bruising kiss. She only let go when the need for air overrode how much she wanted to use the embrace to wash away the fury and resentment that was eating away at her insides.   

“I love you too...” Tabitha whispered as she let go of Barbara’s cloak, the fabric slipping through her fingers like water even as her mind began to fill with strange memories, images of dark castle walls and shadowy chambers, people in masks and dusty tomes filled with archaic knowledge.

Barbara tried to renew their embrace, but when she reached out Tabitha grabbed her wrists and held her at a distance.

Tabitha’s words tasted like gravel on her tongue as she said, “But things are different now.”

“They don’t have to be!” Barbara insisted, desperation tinging her voice, “I promise, we can go back to how things were!”

Tabitha shook her head. “You don’t understand. I _remember_ , Barbara.”

It took a few beats for Barbara to put the pieces together, but when she did, all the hope that had lit up her features faded away.

“I remember it all.” Tabitha’s eyes were unfocused as she thought back to that fateful day where she’d first laid eyes on the Dark Forest that had become her home. “I remember where I’m from and what I came here to do...”

Barbara’s breath hitched with fear, her eyes going to the crossbow hanging on Tabitha’s arm, but she didn’t try to pull away. “So, are you going to do it then? Finish your glorious mission, for king and country?”

“We don’t have a king anymore,” Tabitha corrected her automatically. “He and the queen were killed a few years ago, during the Court’s coup d'etat. I was sent on the hunt by my brother. He’s a very important man in the government.” Suddenly seeming to realize what Barbara was saying, Tabitha released her grip and stepped back. “I’m not going to kill you,” she promised. Part of her wondered how things had gone so wrong that she had to assure Barbara of something like that.

“But you are going to leave me.” Barbara’s voice was hollow, the words more a statement than a question.

“I haven’t decided,” Tabitha answered honestly. “But I know that there’s something I have to do first.”

She hitched her crossbow up over her shoulder and turned to say farewell to Grundy. “See ya around, big guy.”

She’d hardly moved away from the swamp before a huge, squelching crunch sounded behind her. She spun around and found Grundy frozen mid-step, one huge foot standing on top of a crushed log, the other raised in the air.

He pointed over Tabitha’s shoulder, and then at Tabitha. “Grundy...go?”

Tabitha thought about if for a second, and then nodded. “Sure, why not.”

Grundy’s big, misshapen features turned up in a ghastly grin, and Tabitha shot a grim smile back at him.

“You can come too, if you want,” Tabitha said to the air just left of Barbara, finding herself unable to look her in the eye. “I think I might need reinforcements.”

“Reinforcements?” Barbara repeated dully, “What, are we storming the castle?”

“Not exactly. I think that the castle is probably coming to storm us,” Tabitha replied enigmatically, before setting off at a brisk pace through the woods. Barbara and Grundy hurried to follow her.

The trio burst back into the open meadow after about twenty minutes of slogging through dense forest.  Barbara breathed in the fresh air gratefully, while Grundy squinted distrustfully up at the sun. Tabitha kept marching on, eventually coming across Ed, Oswald, Ivy, and Bridgit all gathered in a cluster outside Barbara’s cottage.

She didn’t head towards them, but craned her neck to see what was going on. She could see Ivy pressing a dark green salve to a trio of claw marks on Oswald’s wrist, where it looked like he’d been slashed by a large animal. Tabitha turned a dark look on Barbara, who just shrugged. “What? He got in my way.” She cupped a hand around her mouth and shouted in Oswald’s direction, “You’ll be fine, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will!” he shouted back, lifting his uninjured hand in a rude gesture, “No thanks to _you_!”

“So, we’re good?” Barbara sent him a thumbs up over her shoulder as she jogged after Tabitha, who showed no signs of slowing as she began to follow the path that led out of the woods.

Oswald rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Oh, excellent,” Ed shook Oswald’s shoulder to get his attention, “Because it looks like they’re off on an adventure and I’d like to follow them.”

Oswald stared into the middle distance, looking quite put upon, but ultimately acquiesced with a nod. Ed let out a giddy laugh and then began to tug his recalcitrant boyfriend along after Tabitha and Barbara.

Ivy and Bridgit exchanged looks that said, ‘hey, why not?’ and joined the parade.

The Forest, being in a good mood and noticing the urgency of their journey, shortened the path between their neighborhood and the wood’s boundary so that they arrived at their destination in mere minutes. (The Dark Forest might be a partially-sentient miasma of malevolent chaos and over-grown vegetation, but it also loved its occupants in its own way, and occasionally saw fit to help them out.)

As they reached the bend that revealed Lee’s cabin marking the edge of their territory, Tabitha held up a fist, bringing them all to a stumbling stop. They could hear the sounds of people – _many_ people – coming from around the corner.

Slowly, they peered around the trunk of a fallen tree, and found themselves faced with a veritable platoon of armored soldiers guarding the perimeter of the Kingdom.

“Hey, Tabitha,” Ivy stage-whispered to the leader of their motley crew, eyes fixed nervously on the amassed warriors, “What exactly is going on here?”

“Well, if I know my brother, he’ll have taken my disappearance and turned it into political capital, using it to leverage support for an invasion of the Forest,” Tabitha explained, sizing up the rows of men and horses with a cool, practiced eye. “He’s been angling to rip this place apart and drain it of resources for ages, he just hasn’t been able to convince enough people to brave its dangers. But now...it looks like that’s not a problem.”

“Wait, hold on,” Ivy jabbed an accusatory finger at Tabitha, “You have your _memories back_?!”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Since when?”

“Like, half an hour ago.”

“Were you going to tell us?”

“When it became relevant. So, now.”

Ivy turned to the rest of the crowd, hands aloft. “What the hell?” she mouthed at Bridgit, who just shook her head sympathetically.

This was the moment that Grundy, who had been lagging behind the group, being frequently distracted by things like butterflies and pleasingly-shaped rocks, finally decided to catch up and lumber straight into view of the army.

“Grundy?” he said curiously, upon noticing the soldiers.

“Ahhhhhh!!” the soldiers began to yell, upon noticing Grundy.

The air filled with the clanking of armor and the neighing of horses as some of the soldiers tried to ready their armaments and others tried to flee the scene. Grundy tilted his head and watched the melee with interest, while Tabitha swore and loaded her crossbow.

“Brave soldiers of the one true Kingdom!” a grand, impassioned voice rang out over the hubbub, silencing the scrambling army. A man astride a towering black steed cut through the throng. “The time has come, as I said it would! The monsters of this mad forest are not content with the life of my dear sister, they now come for _you_! They come for your family and friends, to attack us on our own soil! Ready your weapons!”

“Jeez, who’s the loudmouth?” Bridgit grumbled.

“He does seem to love the sound of his own voice,” Ivy agreed.

“You have no idea,” Tabitha growled, cocking her crossbow before taking a deep breath and stepping out of their hiding place.

“No, don’t–!” Barbara tried to grab hold of her, but it was too late.

The leader of the army raised his sword high in the air as he shouted, “Rain death upon the beast!”

But before the soldiers could do more than take a few halting steps towards the Forest boundary, Tabitha had leapt forward, planting herself firmly in front of Grundy’s shambling bulk.

“Don’t you even _think_ about hurting my friend, you bastards!” she yelled, the fire in her eyes and the weapon in her hands making the first wave of soldiers think twice about moving forward.

“Hold!” the man in charge ordered, stopping the advance. With a tug of the reins, he urged his horse forward until it cleared the ranks of soldiers and he could see his opponent clearly.

“My god,” he whispered to himself when he finally realized who he was facing. Then louder, “Do you see this, my men? Fate has rescued my sister from the evil clutches of this vile woods!” He grinned beneficently at his troops, and holstered his sword. “What can this be if not a sign from fate that our mission is blessed?”

“It’s a sign from fate alright,” Tabitha shouted, bringing her crossbow to bear on her brother’s head, “but it’s no blessing, Theo.”

“Tabitha,” he hissed angrily, before his expression became smooth and genial once more. “Dear sister, it is I, your brother! Don’t you know me?”

“Yeah, I know you. I know you better now than I did when I left the Kingdom. Because now I can see the truth about what you are, what you’ve _always_ been. You’re a cruel, manipulative, self-centered son of a bitch that I want nothing to do with.”

One soldier oohed at Tabitha’s pronouncement. Theo shot a scathing look in the direction the sound came from before turning back to his sister with a benevolent smile.

“Tabitha. I’m sure you don’t mean what you say – you’ve been through a terrible ordeal, missing for months, trapped in this place with these savages...come home to me now, and I’ll see you get the best care in the land.”

“Pass,” Tabitha replied without hesitation.

“ _Tabitha_...”

“ _Theo_ ,” she snarled back derisively.

Her brother reared back, affronted. “What’s wrong with you? This is not the Tabitha that I know and _love_.” Theo’s exaggerated emphasis on that last word made Tabitha want to retch.

“The person that you knew is gone,” she told him, lowering her crossbow to better address him. “I’m not sure how much she ever existed – she was just a construct made up of the sister you thought I should be, held together by outdated beliefs passed down by paranoid cowards afraid of everything they don’t understand...”

“Holy shit,” Bridgit whispered to Ivy from where she and the rest of their group were still hiding, “D’ya think she wrote all this down beforehand, or is this off the cuff?”

“I dunno,” Ivy whispered back, “maybe she was a speech-writer before Lee wiped her brain!”

“Tabitha, listen to reason...” Theo urged his steed forward and Tabitha raised her crossbow again, centering it on his heart.

“Theo, if you cross over that line into this Forest, then I _will_ shoot you.”

“You wouldn’t kill me,” Theo said, confident.

“Maybe not. But I don’t have to.” Tabitha adjusted her aim. “A shoulder shot would do nicely. Not usually fatal, but I’ve heard gangrene’s a real bitch.”

Theo’s calm façade began to crack. “We’re family!” he protested, even as his fingers creeped towards the hilt of his sword.

“No. I’ve known real family here. Real love. And I know now that that’s not you.”

“Alright, then.” Theo’s mouth stretched into a sly smile, before he pulled on a mask of grief and turned to his troops with a hand over his heart. “My dear, fellow subjects of this great Kingdom! These terrible woods have compounded the tragic loss of my sister by sending this foul changeling to trick us!” Once again he raised his sword aloft, turning cold eyes on Tabitha as he declared, “To protect ourselves and our families, we must destroy the fiend who dared take my departed sister’s form and raze its filthy home to the ground!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” cautioned a smooth voice, coming from somewhere in the trees to Tabitha’s left. She and Theo turned to see a fairly handsome but otherwise ordinary looking man in a prim pinstripe suit step out from the shadow of an evergreen, tutting like a displeased school teacher. “No, I really wouldn’t do that.”

Theo looked the newcomer up and down, unimpressed. “And why, pray tell, wouldn’t I do just that?”

“Well, you see, that sword that you’re waving about? If I’m not mistaken, it’s the blade of Azrael.” The stranger scratched his short beard thoughtfully, a playful gleam in his eyes. “He was a very powerful sorcerer, and if you’ve been wielding his sword for any significant period of time...well. The magic he imbued in his most prized weapon would almost certainly have rubbed off on you.”

Murmurs began to rise among the soldiers. A few cast dubious looks at their commander, and phrases like, “enchanted?” and “ _hypocrite_ ” could be heard from the braver of the assembled.

“That– that’s ridiculous!” Theo stumbled slightly, then picked up speed, “I inherited this sword from my noble forefathers! How dare you try and besmirch its provenance with rumors of _magic_!”

“Oh, I certainly do not intend to besmirch the sword,” the man assured Theo, “In fact, it has a rather admirable pedigree of doing a great deal of good for the world. _You_ on the other hand...” The newcomer took a step forward and Theo’s horse whinnied nervously, shuffling its hooves. “From the sound of it, you’ve not done much good for this world at all.”

“Uh...” Tabitha, who’d been watching the exchange with growing bewilderment, leaned back towards her gathered friends, who had slowly scooted out from behind the fallen tree to better observe the drama. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Oh, right!” Barbara replied, “You haven’t gotten to meet him yet. That’s the Fox!”

“ _This_ is the Fox?” Tabitha jerked a thumb at the man smiling pleasantly up at her furious brother.

“Yep!” Barbara confirmed. “Were you expecting something else?”

“Well, maybe, like...an actual fox?”

Barbara broke into laughter along with Ivy and Bridgit, who snorted, “An _actual_ fox? C’mon, Tabitha, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Right, _I’m_ being ridiculous,” Tabitha grumbled, turning back to the more urgent situation at hand than her mocking friends.

Theo was still trying his best to win back his audience of soldiers with his speechifying. “Your foul tongue speaks lies!” he blustered at an unaffected Fox. “As all creatures of this damned forest do!”

“You’re the only liar here, I’m afraid,” the Fox reproached him gently. “By your ownership and use of the sword, not to mention the possible familial connection to Azrael himself via those forefathers you mentioned, you _are_ a magical creature. By the technical definition, anyway. And thus, you are bound by the rules befalling all magical creatures who cross over this boundary.” Fox gestured casually to the earth in front of Theo. “If you are not of pure heart, then once you cross this line, you will be trapped in the forest forever.”

Theo paused. “I’ll...what now?”

The Fox looked pleased, like a professor who’d just been asked a question about a favorite pet topic. “As I understand it,” he explained, “the boundary acts as a protector of the Kingdom, by keeping all dangerous and evil magical creatures captive within its confines. So, if you are as treacherous as I believe you to be, once you’ve come into the Dark Forest, you would never be allowed out again.”

“That’s...you...you’re making this up! Trying to trick me –”

“No, I’m being quite truthful. Am I not, Miss Lee?” Fox turned to face the witch, who had been watching the commotion from the comfort of the window seat inside her home, but who was now standing on her porch with a benign smile.

“You certainly are, Mr. Fox,” Lee agreed. “As the caster of the original enchantment, I can confirm that any being who is both magical and wicked who crosses that line will be cursed to live out the rest of his days within the bounds of this Forest.” She turned to look Theo squarely in the eye. “In case I’m not being clear enough, that means _you_ , asshole.”

Theo’s features grew distorted with rage. He hefted his sword high as if to bring it down on the witch’s head, but Tabitha was faster – she finally let loose the arrow in her crossbow, planting it dead center in Theo’s right palm. He screamed and dropped the sword, clutching at his bloodied hand.

“Demon!” he wailed at Tabitha, who was grinning nastily. “You’ll pay for this attack on your betters!” When he looked to his men, however, he found them backing slowly away from the Forest, most of them eyeing their disarmed, dishonored leader with heavy skepticism.

“Today is not the day for battle!” Theo continued, growing weaker as his soldiers retreated without him, “But there will be other days, for the war is not yet....not yet over...”

“It’s over, Theo,” Tabitha said, feeling suddenly very tired. “Leave, and don’t come back, or I really will put an arrow through your eye.”

Theo scowled, but didn’t say another word before kicking his heels into his horse’s sides and galloping off after his men.

“Woohoo!” Ivy broke into cheers behind Tabitha. “That was _amazing_!”

“ _You_ were amazing,” Barbara emphasized, moving to Tabitha’s side but keeping a respectable distance between them.

“The Fox was amazing,” Bridgit added as the man himself approached their group with a soft smile, his hands clasped neatly in front of him.

“Yes, he was!” Ed enthused, leaping forward to clap him on the back, “Well done, Foxy!”

“Yes, that was a clever move,” Oswald complimented him, even as he grabbed Ed by the waist and pulled him possessively into his side.

“You are _so_ invited to our next barbecue,” Bridgit said, shaking his hand.

“Thank you, all of you, but I only did what I felt was right,” the Fox demurred.

“You’ve always been an honorable man, Lucius,” Lee noted as she joined them, standing just outside their circle.

“Lucius?” Ivy echoed, “Since when have you got a first name?” She punched the Fox’s arm lightly.

“Since always,” he replied evenly, “But I felt a simpler title better fit with this Forest’s character.” He turned to Tabitha. “I apologize that these are the circumstances we must meet under – I have been rather amiss in tending to social engagements, but I’ve been deeply involved in my work.”

“It’s fine,” Tabitha said brusquely, “All that matters is that you got my brother to leave with his tail between his legs.”

“A joint accomplishment, I’m sure.”

“I suppose.” Tabitha heaved a sigh, feeling like her bones were weighed down with lead in the face of all that had happened. The return of her memories, the fracturing of her relationship, the unfortunate reunion with her brother – it was all a lot for one person to carry.

As if reading her mind, Barbara moved closer and slid a hand to the small of Tabitha’s back, the pressure gentle and comforting. “What do you want to do now?” she asked, tone neutral even as her eyes blazed with emotion.

Tabitha tried to think, but it was too hard – so she decided to just feel.

“I want to go home,” she finally said.

“Home?” Barbara repeated uncertainly.

“Yeah, home. With you,” Tabitha confirmed.

Barbara lit up at her words. “So...we’re alright? You still want to be with me?”

Tabitha took a moment to collect herself before speaking. “The thing is...you lied to me. For your own sake, and that’s _not_ completely forgiven. It was a really bad thing to do, but....well. We’re both kind of bad people. We all are, that’s why we’re here. Uh, Fox and Lee excluded, I guess,” Tabitha amended, flapping a hand at the two in question. “But the rest of us, we’re messy and complicated and we do bad things for bad reasons, and at the end of the day, what we care about most it what we want. And I want you.” Tabitha reached up to slide her fingers into Barbara’s soft golden curls, palm cupping her cheek.

There was a muffled whimper, and they all turned to see Oswald dabbing at his teary eyes with a handkerchief. “What?” he sniffed, “That was beautiful.”

“Aww...” Ed cooed, reaching down to pull his partner into his chest for a hug. Ivy and Bridgit’s eyes met, and then then were embracing too. Barbara threw caution to the wind and wrapped her arms around Tabitha’s neck, pulling her in for a deep, toe-curling kiss.

Lee and Lucius looked at each other, slightly awkward, and then shook hands briskly.

“See you around,” she said, taking a step back towards her cabin.

“Yes, we should have tea, sometime!” Lucius replied, waving goodbye before making a beeline for the trees.

Grundy, who had understood very little of what had just transpired, continued to quietly observe his new acquaintances. In some part of his muddled mind, he hoped that now that all the shouting was over, there might be more sandwiches (or picnic baskets) for him to eat.

Tabitha noticed Lee retreating out of the corner of her eye and called after her, “Hey, witch!”

Lee swung back round to face them. “Yes?”

Tabitha stared her down, reflecting on the many and varied consequences of the spell Lee had cast on her, before saying gruffly, “Thank you.”

Surprise colored Lee’s features first, but a pleased smile quickly followed. “You’re very welcome.”

“Just so we’re clear though,” Tabitha shifted her stance, stabbing a finger towards Lee, “if you ever wave your wand in my direction again, I’m gonna snap it in half and shove it where the sun don’t shine – you got me?”

Lee heaved a sigh. “I got you.” With an elegant wave she turned and walked away, hair swishing over her shoulder.

“Pity,” Barbara whispered to Tabitha, “I was kind of hoping you’d try and punch her, at least break her nose or something.”

“Sorry,” Tabitha grinned, “Maybe I’ll ask Bridgit if she wants to get in a brawl later, make it up to you.”

Barbara’s teasing smile faded. “ _I’m_ the one who has to make things up to you. And I will, I promise.”

“Hey,” Tabitha took hold of Barbara’s chin with her thumb and forefinger, looking her straight in the eye, “I don’t need you to try and fix the past. I just need you to be honest in the future, so we can move forward.”

“Forward.” Barbara covered Tabitha’s hand with her own, bringing it down to press over her heart. “Together.”

“Together. You and me...” Tabitha jerked her head in the direction of the other embracing couples, “...and the rest of these idiots.”

“Sounds like a party. Ooh!” Barbara clapped her hands excitedly, “We should throw one, to celebrate!”

“Maybe we can save the party for later,” Tabitha stifled a yawn, “I’m pretty beat.”

“Oh, what am I thinking, of course you’re exhausted. Let’s get you home.” Barbara paused and looked thoughtfully up at Grundy. “Hey, Tabitha...do you think he gives piggyback rides?”

“There’s one way to find out. Hey, big guy!” Tabitha waved her arms to get his attention. “Tabitha and Barbara go....up?” She mimed lifting a person onto her shoulders.

Grundy smiled, showing off rows of broken, yellow teeth. “Grundy friends, up!” Like he was picking up a pair of kittens rather than two grown human beings, Grundy lifted Tabitha and Barbara up, up, up and plopped them on his shoulders. They grabbed hold of his head and then each other to keep their balance, both laughing.

“Oh my god!” Barbara giggled, “This is crazy!”

“This is our life,” Tabitha countered, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And just like that, perched on Grundy’s shoulders and followed by their band of misfit friends, they rode off into the sunset, hand in hand. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I’d love to know what you thought <3


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